The (Wet) DreamGirl
by Rochelle Allison
Summary: Bella used to be Edward's babysitter. Now Edward's all grown up...and so are Bella's feelings toward him. Written for the May to December Romance Contest (and, surprisingly, winner of two awards: Best UST and Carrie ZM's Judge's Favorite).


**my May to December entry - hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**thanks to my beta NicNicD. reunited and it feels *so* good (and remaining mistakes are mine).**

**Twilight belongs to SM; this plot belongs to me.**

**ps: please excuse the hokey **_**"~the wet dream girl ~"**_** line breaks. FFN is not letting me save changes to my doc, and with that are normal line/paragraph breaks. sigh. sorry, guys.  
**

_~the wet dream girl ~_

"Mom."

She looks up from my bedsheets somewhat guiltily, giving them one last tuck before straightening. "What?"

"You never made my bed when I was a kid," I chuckle affectionately, "… and you don't have to do it now."

Everything in my childhood bedroom is as it was when I left it, for the most part. The sheets are new, a pale purple I probably would not have picked myself but like despite. I plop down on the freshly made bed.

"Yes, well." She sighs, the picture of happiness and contentment, and sits beside me. "It's good to have you home."

"It's good to be home." I nod. "I missed you."

During my college years, visits home were a bit all over the place. Spontaneous weekend trips during freshman year, when I was still adjusting to being on my own, became sporadic as time went on, though I always returned for major holidays. The summer before my senior year, however, I was accepted into an overseas program studying comparative literature in London that lasted into my first year of grad school. Despite living in Seattle again I'm still not home much, but wild horses couldn't have kept me away this Thanksgiving.

Mom gives my knee a little pat. "I've missed you too, Bella. A lot." She sits with me for a minute more before saying she needs to get back to the stuffing and Angela, my sister, who was elbow deep in pecan pie last I checked.

Yawning despite the fact I slept in for once, I wander over to the window and lean my elbows on the sill. Squinting, I can just barely see the corner, where we used to catch the bus, and how the empty parking lot we gathered in once upon a time is now a taco joint.

In my time away, my hometown grew up without me, I guess. It's . . . weird.

I've lived on this street my entire life. I broke my elbow on my bike when I was ten because I hit the railroad ties in front of the Copes' yard. Next door are the Cullens, whose boys –the most adorable kids ever – I babysat for years. Their dad, a physician, was the neighborhood "cute dad", and my friends and I all called him Doctor Dreamy. I wonder idly how the boys grew up – they'd be in high school now, I think, which makes me realize how the cliché "time flies" is sometimes fitting.

"Bella!" Angela's voice floats up the stairs. "Come on."

She's enlisted me to help with dessert, so I yank a hoodie on and head downstairs to perform my sisterly duty.

_~the wet dream girl ~_

I grab my glass seconds before my cousins Riley and Royce plow into the table. They're five and physically incapable of sitting still.

"Ow!" they yell in unison, barreling off as my Aunt Renata hurries by.

"Sorry, Bella," she huffs in passing. "It's all that sugar."

It's not, really - the twins live life at sixty miles per hour - but I just nod and smile and take another sip of water.

Grandpa Swan chortles into his mashed potatoes and gravy, swatting Grandma Marie away when she tries to hand him a napkin. I suspect he's had way more wine than he's letting on. Stifling a laugh, I turn my attention to other end of the table, where my mother's in full fret mode.

"Mom?"

"The bottle opener!" she cries melodramatically, a bottle of wine in one hand and a mangled lump of silver in the other.

Angela jumps up, rolling her eyes. "I'll grab the -"

"No; that one's gone - I tossed it out ages ago…"

I glance at Grandpa and Grandma, who, frankly don't look like they need any more wine. And we're only halfway through dinner. "Mom, it's fine. I don't think we need -"

"It's the dessert wine." Sighing heavily, she trudges back to the kitchen. For someone who loves hosting dinner parties and holiday gatherings, you'd think she would take these kinds of things in stride.

Angela is rustling through the drawers when I join them. "Why don't I just go to the store?" she asks, voice slightly muffled.

"Actually, Bella, would you run next door? See if Esme has an extra?"

The thought of leaving such toasty warmth for the blustery darkness outside holds little appeal, but I'll do it for the vino. "All right. Let me grab my coat."

The Cullen's home glows brightly as I approach, triggering endless memories of nights spent babysitting here. It had been a great gig: the kids were rowdy but adorable, Esme paid well, and the kitchen was always packed with goodies. I started the summer after freshman year and continued all the way through graduation, becoming quite close to the whole family.

Because of college and now grad school, I haven't seen them in years. I find myself quite anticipating the reunion, wondering what everyone's up to these days. Shivering, I ring the doorbell and burrow deeper beneath my scarf, wishing I'd put on a warmer coat. Shapes and shadows pass the curtained windows, and then the door swings open.

"Jasper?" I gasp, scarcely able to recognize the tall, handsome blond towering over me. He's still got some growing to do, but it looks like our predictions about these kids was right on.

"Bella?" he asks, scratching his head.

"Let her in, Jasper!" Esme cries, pushing her son out of the way. "It's freezing out there." She pulls me inside, where it's just as cozy, loud and delicious smelling as my house, and envelops me in a hug. "Hi, sweetheart. I was hoping you'd stop by - Renee said you were coming home."

She still wears the same perfume, and I get a nostalgic whiff as I hug her back. "How've you been? I can't get over how tall Jazzy's gotten."

"Seriously, Bella?" Making a face, he shakes his head. "No one's called me that sh-"

Esme flicks his shoulder. "Jasper."

"That crap in years," he finishes, wandering off.

"Sorry," I say crisply, hiding a smile. What does he expect? He was a baby-faced third grader when I started babysitting for this family. "Jasper."

"How's your mom?" Esme asks, leading me further into the house.

"She's fine - actually, that's why I stopped by. Do you have an extra bottle opener? Ours kind of fell apart."

"Of course; let me get it for you." Esme pats my arm as she deposits me in the living room, where Jasper's already back on the couch, watching the game with what looks like uncles and cousins.

"Grab a seat," he calls, shoving a younger boy off of the couch. "Remember Bella, Garrett?"

He peers at me, unsure. I remember him, though - Garrett Cullen's the baby of the group. He's got to be in sixth or seventh grade by now - I think. "Hey, buddy. We used to build Legos together."

His face brightens some, and he nods. "Oh, yeah. Hi."

"Hey," I say, smiling warmly.

"Come watch the game," Jasper insists, motioning me over.

"Oh, I'm not staying long. I just stopped by to borrow something from your mom," I explain, shaking my head. "Thanks, though."

"Bella used to be our babysitter," he announces, a little belatedly, to the group. A chorus of hellos ensue, and I'm giving them an awkward wave when someone bumps into me from behind, nearly sending me sprawling.

"Sorry," a smooth, deep voice says, grabbing my arm to steady me.

I turn my head slowly to find an absolutely gorgeous guy holding on to my arm, peering at me like he knows something I don't. A funny feeling jolts through me the second our eyes meet, and I step back a little, disconcerted.

Recognition dawns as he stares down at me. It's Edward, the oldest of the Cullens; like Jasper, he's much taller than me now and certainly isn't the gangly adolescent I remember. I do, however, remember those eyes and how stunning they'd been on him as a child - green as gems, fringed with the longest, darkest eyelashes. Now they're just…devastating.

"Bella?"

I remember those freckles...right across the bridge of his nose. That smile, right there, sort of a half smile. Goofier when he was a kid, but he's certainly grown into it.

"Hey, Edward. Long time no see."

Backing up a bit, he folds his arms and nods. "Yeah, no kidding. You back for good?"

This is so weird. I remember playing video games with him, making him chocolate milk and PopTarts. Now he's practically a man. A man with broad shoulders and stubble. "No…just for Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, me too."

"What grade are you in now?" I blurt.

"I graduated," he says, somehow managing to scoff and smirk at the same time. "I'm a freshman at UW."

"Can you believe it?" Esme coos, reappearing with the bottle opener. "My baby. In college."

"Mom," he huffs, running a hand through his hair.

"Bella's in grad school now, aren't you, honey?"

"Yes, I am." I keep my eyes on her, even though Edward's staring quite unabashedly at me now. His attention is flattering, but it catches me off guard, too. "Also at UW."

"Oh! You'll have to show Edward around. Give him the insider's tour," she sighs, giving me a side hug. I suspect she too has been hitting the wine, which is kind of hilarious. I'd love to spend more time with her now that I'm older.

Tucking the bottle opener beneath my arm, I nod and peek up at Edward. "Anytime. I'd love to show you around." And I would. But if the way he's checking me out right now is any indication that he likes me, I'll have to be careful with how I proceed. He's good looking, no doubt, but he's young. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks for the opener."

"I've got a couple." She hugs me again. "Bella, come back before leaving, okay? We'll have coffee."

"I'd love that."

She gives Edward a little push. "Walk her back, honey."

"It's fine, Esme -"

"I don't mind," he says, flashing me a little smile.

Jasper and the others are completely enthralled by the game, so I sneak out the way I came, weirdly aware of how close behind me Edward is. We walk briskly over to my house, bracing ourselves against the wind.

"Man, it got cold so fast," I say, feeling the need to just say something.

"They're saying it might snow early this year." His hand rests just behind my back as I hurry up the rain slicked stairs to my door. It's unexpected, and it's sweet. "Good seeing you, Bella."

"Yeah, you too." I almost say more, like, _you've changed_! but something holds me back.

I fumble for the door and he disappears into the dark. 

_~the wet dream girl ~_

Despite Esme's suggestion I show Edward around, I don't actually see him again until March.

Not that I'm looking.

Well…he crosses my mind, but I'm usually so busy he doesn't stay there.

Unlike past years in sun-drenched locations, I have no plans for Spring Break. A good friend in the engineering program, Jake, is new to Seattle, so I offer him a place to stay over break. My mother loves nothing better than hosting, and Jake's a total charmer, so it's a win-win for everyone. The night we come home she makes a roast, inviting Angela's boyfriend over as well. We stay up late into the night, shooting the breeze over beer and spades.

The next morning Angela's stupid cat wakes me up at the butt crack of dawn, mewing and scratching at the door to be let out. I make a mental note to ask why he doesn't harass her as I trudge downstairs, mourning the loss of extra sleep. Afterwards I'm groggy but awake, so I make a huge cup of coffee and tuck myself into the window seat in the corner of the kitchen.

It's not quite light out yet, sunrise just barely tickling the edges of a slightly overcast day, when the Cullen's front door opens and Edward steps out. He stretches quickly and then takes off down the sidewalk, jogging at an easy pace. I watch as he runs, inexplicably pleased he's home for break, too.

I'm on cup number three, halfheartedly thumbing through the newspaper, when he returns. It's drizzling now, the sky a steely grey, and his white t-shirt clings wetly to his chest as he runs. He pulls it off as he hits the steps, wiping his face with it, and I look away, horrified by the heat in my cheeks.

Well, damn.

If I'm being completely honest… it's no surprise Edward's grown up so nicely, because those kids have always been beautiful. It's just a reality check: these days he looks more like someone I'd date than someone I once babysat.

The next day I'm showing Jake around our modest little suburb when we come across a group of guys playing touch football at the park. Jake slows to a stop, a wistful little grin on his face. Apparently he played in high school, and pretty seriously in college as well, so this is his thing.

Sweaty, shirtless guys are my thing, so…I don't mind watching. Even if they are a little on the young side.

There's lots of yelling and running and tumbling and then the ball comes sailing for our heads. I duck, but Jake catches it effortlessly, barely even raising his hand.

"You play?" someone yells, obviously impressed by Jake's faux-modest moves.

"A bit." He glances longingly at me.

Rolling my eyes, I give him a little shove. "Go."

I find a tree and lean against it, grateful for bright warmth of the day. It's a good day for a game, and I watch, amused and entertained by the overwhelming maleness of it: showboating, shit talking, tackling…I see someone who looks just like Jasper,.

And then I focus in on another guy, realizing with abrupt clarity that it's Edward. He's shirtless again, and flirting with this petite brunette across the green. She giggles with her friends as he grabs at her, dodging his attempts until he catches her and kisses her cheek, at which point she gives in, wrapping her arms around his neck. I avert my eyes, feeling like a creep for noticing their moment.

What am I even doing here? These are high school kids, most of them, except for the few like Edward who graduated recently.

I'm almost twenty five.

Standing, I brush the grass from my butt and flag Jake down before he gets too involved.

"Hey, I can go -"

"No, it's cool." I nod toward the game. "Stay - I'm gonna run to the store real quick. I'll be right back."

"You sure?" He hesitates, but I know he's dying to run around.

"Positive. I need a couple things for the lasagna."

He grins, tugging my ponytail. "Okay."

Patting my pockets to make sure I have my phone and keys, I begin walking back to the sidewalk. I sneak a peek at the game, nearly faltering when I catch Edward looking at me. My heart plunges, a lot like it did back on Thanksgiving. And it's weird, because he's a kid. I mean, he used to be a kid, and in so many ways he still feels like one to me. He just doesn't look like one anymore, and if I'm honest he doesn't _look at me_ like one, either. 

_~the wet dream girl ~_

Jake and I are helping my mother clean up after dinner when the doorbell rings. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I make my way to the door and squint through the peephole.

Edward and Jasper are on the other side with a couple of the guys were playing football with earlier. My stomach dips unpleasantly, and I pause for a moment to fix my expression before opening the door.

"Hey guys." I smile, standing aside so they can enter.

"Hey, Bella." Edward's eyes flicker over me before looking beyond, deeper into the house. "Your friend Jake here?"

"Oh." That's unexpected. I guess…maybe I thought he was here to hang out? I nod, gesturing. "Yeah. In the kitchen."

"Smells good in here," Jasper says, giving me a small hug in greeting.

"Lasagna." I shrug, sticking my hands into my back pocket. "I promised Jake…"

"I remember your lasagna," Edward says. "So good. I used to like those pizza bagel things you made, too…"

Laughing quietly, I nod. I remember all of those things, and it tickles me he remembers, too.

"Anyway, we're gonna go catch a movie. You guys want to come?" He brushes by as he asks, smelling like detergent and something minty. It makes me want to rub my face in his hoodie, so I step back.

It's not like I have anything better to do, really, but I'd considered bringing Jake to one of my favorite bars in town. With a start, I realize there aren't bars in Edward's future for a few years yet to come.

"Are you guys headed out now?" I ask.

"Yeah. Movie starts in a half hour."

I call for Jake and he appears, face lighting up when he sees the boys. Guess they bonded over the game - they played for hours. "Hey man."

"S'up, Jake." Edward nods, standing up a little straighter and folding his arms. "You down for a movie?"

Jake glances at me, shrugging. "Want to?"

I eye Edward, whose gaze is bouncing between me and Jake like he's trying to solve a riddle. When he notices me noticing him, he shifts his body to look at his friends, rejoining their conversation about the movie. There is a tension that I feel every time we make eye contact, and I can't tell if it's on my part or his.

Not for the first time his less-than-subtle attention is both off-putting and intriguing, and I'm suddenly curious if he thinks there's anything going on between Jake and I.

I mean, Jake and I are just friends. And even if we were more, I barely know the Edward of today. The one I remember was addicted to his Xbox, hated reading, ate cereal like it was its own food group, and got yelled at for drinking milk from the carton. He hid candy in his room – which was a pig-sty by the way – and liked to pick on Jasper until the younger boy cried. Not that Jasper took it; I have a particular memory involving Edward and a really bad haircut thanks to Jasper's vengeance.

We were all dorks when we were kids, though, so I can't hold these things against him. And I don't. If anything, they endear me to him.

But they also make me a little skittish, especially when those crazy-beautiful eyes focus on me again. If I didn't know him already and saw him walking down the street, I know I'd pay attention. And I don't know how I feel about that.

Actually, that's a lie - I do know. It makes me feel a little pervy.

I shrug and hedge, "It could be fun."

Jake nods slowly and then grins. "Let's go. It's been awhile."

In the end, we follow them to the theater in my car. I realize I've never even seen Edward behind the wheel of a car - I'd graduated by the time he got his driver's license – and it's yet another thing today that makes me feel ancient.

The boys grab their tickets first, and then Edward falls back, handing me mine.

"Thanks," I say, pleasantly surprised. "You didn't have to."

"It's fine." He shrugs, glancing at Jake, and I this time I know for certain that he sees Jake as competition.

It's something I really don't know how to feel about, so I hand my ticket to the attendant and try and not think at all.

Seemingly clueless to all of this, Jake pokes me. "You want anything from the snack bar?"

"Popcorn. Large." I hand him a twenty, which he ignores.

Rolling my eyes, I stand back and let him order. Once our group is loaded down with the appropriate carbs and grease, we file into the dim theater, heading right for the middle. It's a weeknight, so there are plenty of seats. I walk in after Jasper and sit down, startled when Edward sits down at my left. Jake's on his left, already halfway through a Snickers bar as he scrolls through his Facebook feed.

Edward hands me a bag of Reese's Pieces. "You like these, right?"

Touched, I accept. "I really do. I haven't had them in years."

He smiles, pleased.

"How'd you know?"

His eyes search mine, and then he looks away. "I remembered."

Ripping the bag open, I pour some of the chocolate into my palm. "Want some?"

"Sure." He holds his hand out and I give him a healthy portion. "Halloween," he says suddenly.

"Halloween?"

"You used to go through my candy stash when you came over to babysit. You always asked for these."

I barely remember, but by the look on Edward's face, it's like it happened yesterday. "You have a good memory," I say quietly, separating the brown candies from the orange and yellow. His admission makes me wonder if he's had a crush on me since we were younger. Is that what this is?

The lights go down and the previews start. I settle back into my seat, looking forward to the movie, which has been on my 'to-see' list anyway. After a while Jake passes the popcorn down to me. I eat it with gusto, offering Edward some. It only takes one collision with his buttery fingers for me to calm myself, though, because suddenly this is all a little too date-like for me. It doesn't help that Edward leans my way the entire time, whispering comments every now and then:

_What is he doing?_

_She wants him. So obvious._ (This, with more scoffing.)

_He's dumb. I'd kiss her._

I remember the girl I saw him fooling around with at the park, and wonder why she isn't at his side tonight.

After the movie, we walk back to the parking lot, chatting about the movie. Edward lingers close-by, and Jake definitely notices now. He waits until we're in the car on the way home, once again following Edward, before clearing his throat.

"I think Edward might be hot for the babysitter."

"Ugh, Jake, shut up." I punch his arm, laughing. I don't know whether I'm embarrassed or relieved he's noticed.

"Oh, come on! Like you can't tell."

Sighing, I change lanes."Yeah, I can tell."

"Poor kid," Jake snickers.

"Don't be mean. Edward's a good guy."

"Never said he wasn't. I just feel for him…I used to have a thing for an older girl back home…Emily. Man, she was a babe."

"I'm not that much older," I protest. "Five or six years."

Jake's quiet, so I sneak a peek, worried he thinks I'm being inappropriate. "What?"

"Are you considering…"

"No! I'm just saying."

He gives me the side eye, earning another punch.

"I think it's fine, just so you know," he says casually.

"What is?"

"If you like him." He shrugs, looking out the window. "Who cares?"

I care. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do.

_~the wet dream girl ~_

I keep my distance after that night, politely declining when Jake goes next door to play football in the backyard with the Cullen boys. Esme is persistent, though, so when she invites me over for coffee I accept. We spend hours talking about literature and art, things we have in common, but inevitably the conversation morphs into one about her kids, and hearing how proud she and Carlisle are of them just makes me feel creepy, like I'm a predator or something.

Maybe I shouldn't - the age difference isn't that dramatic. Our life stages are at odds, though, and always have been. He was a little boy and I was his babysitter. It's not a dynamic that's easy to overcome.

Jake and I head back to Seattle about a week later. I throw myself into my studies, determined to keep my grades up. Because of a heavy course load and several study groups in addition to work, I have very little time for extracurriculars; the semester speeds by. Angela breaks up with her boyfriend right around June, so she finally joins me in the city. We get an apartment together near campus, and though I'm taking summer classes I still spend a lot of time with her - which I've missed.

I'm making dinner one night in August when she breezes in, tossing her bag onto the couch.

"Ben invited us to a party tonight."

"That the new guy?" Angela's a serial monogamist.

"Yes, from the bookstore," she says, voice rising and falling as she goes from room to room. "His older brother knows a guy, and they have great parties…"

"It's not a frat party, is it?" I ask, nose wrinkling in distaste. "I don't know if I'm in the mood for that." Been there, done that, been over it for about four years.

"No, just a get together. Off campus…around Ballard I think."

That's a cool area. Maybe a little change in scenery would be good; I can't remember the last time I really relaxed.

"You should come," Angela chides, popping up beside me. "All you do is work and study - and I get it. But I miss you."

"You see me every day," I say, softening.

"Come on…"

"Okay. What time are you leaving? We driving?"

"Ben will pick us up."

"He know I'm coming?"

"He's the one who asked," she says, stealing a carrot from the salad I've just assembled.

It's a warm night, likely one of the last we'll have before autumn comes. Still, I grab a light jacket at the last minute, knowing how tricky the weather can be.

Ben's an incredibly sweet guy, older than Angela but younger than me. He's so obviously enamored with my sister that it's not hard to like him. We chat all the way to Ballard, where he pulls up to the curb of a trendy looking apartment building. We head inside, and climb all the way to the top, where there is indeed a get together on the rooftop. There's an abundance of red Solo cups despite the rather classy atmosphere, though, which I find amusing.

The friend whose party it is, Paul, takes to me immediately. And I have to admit, I find him attractive. He's tall, with dark hair and eyes that complement his olive skin. He studies internal medicine, so we're sort of at separate ends of the spectrum with regard to school, but he's easy to talk to. He's the host, though, so as more people show up, he excuses himself to mingle.

Warmed by the mellow atmosphere and my drink, I wander to the edge and gaze out over the city, enjoying the view.

"Bella?"

Now that's a voice I know, and maybe it's the alcohol, but I'm so glad to hear it. Turning, I smile up at Edward. "Edward! What's up?"

We hug briefly, and he grins, shaking his head. "Paul's brother's my roommate. Embry."

"So you know Ben and Jared?"

"Yeah." He nods, sipping his drink.

"Angela's with Ben now," I say, pointing to where they're cuddling on a lounge.

"Small world," he chuckles. "Good to see you, though. You'd never think we lived in the same city. Or went to the same school."

"Yeah, I know. It's nuts." I appraise him subtly, noting the changes. He's let his beard grow a little - it's cute. And his hair's longer, too. Messy. Also cute. Swallowing, I avert my eyes. "So…what have you been up to? Have you chosen a focus yet?"

"Pre-med."

"Really?" I exclaim. "Like your dad?"

He nods, cheeks flushed a bit. "Yeah."

"Wow. You have a lot of school ahead of you, Edward."

"Says the girl who's been in school for - what is it, six years?"

"Seven." I grin, nodding. "Yeah, you're right."

"So how come I never see you?" he asks casually, leaning against the railing.

It's a question I could take in so many ways, but I choose to keep it simple. "I'm always studying. And when I'm not, I'm working."

"It's getting to that point for me, too," Edward says, exhaling. "Busiest I've ever been."

"It's good to be focused. Just make sure you enjoy it, though."

"Oh, I have been. Don't worry about that." His eyes twinkle as he takes another sip, and my heart skips. I probably don't want to know what he's insinuating - even if he's just teasing - so I leave it alone.

"That's good."

"So how's Jake?" he asks.

"He's fine…working his ass off."

"I'm sensing a theme, here."

Snorting, I roll my eyes. "It's definitely a theme. He knows how to relax, though…probably even better than I do."

"He didn't come?" Edward asks, glancing around. The crowd has more than tripled since we got here. I can't even see Angela and Ben. His question interests me, though. I sense he's fishing.

"No," I say evenly, keeping my eyes on his. "I don't know what he's up to tonight."

"Bella!" Paul materializes from the crowd with two beers, one of which he hands off to me. "Thought you'd left without saying goodbye."

"I wouldn't do that." I hold the beer up. "And thanks."

"No problem." He smiles at me and then focuses in on Edward, nodding. "Hey, bro. How you doing?"

"Great. How's Mike? I thought I saw him with Jessica…" Edward shifts as he and Paul begin to chat, leaning back against the railing. The move puts him a lot closer to me, and I bite back a smile at his subtle claim. Edward might be a little younger than me, but he certainly does not lack confidence.

Nor should he: with looks like his, I'm sure he's used to getting what - and who - he wants. Does he see me as a challenge? The thought sends an unexpected thrill through me, and I wonder when I started to enjoy this instead of wanting to run from it.

Yeah - probably the alcohol.

But after awhile it becomes apparent that Paul isn't leaving. If anything, he too is sliding closer until the three of us are in a tight little huddle, discussing everything from classes and campus life to saving the whales. I feel a faint vibration against my thigh, and, excusing myself, extricate myself to answer the text. It's Angela, wanting to know where I am. I tell her, and she appears seconds later, cheeks flushed from drinking… and probably fooling around with Ben.

Her eyes flash past me to Edward and Paul. "You've been here the while time?"

I nod, finishing my beer. It's my second…or third…and I'm definitely feeling it.

"Talking to Edward?" she asks, arching an eyebrow. "This whole time?"

"Hmm?"

"Bella."

"Yes, I have been talking to Edward," I say. "And to Paul."

"It's so weird that Edward's here," she says, pulling me away. "Come with me to the bathroom."

"Paul's brother is his roommate." I follow, needing to go myself. "He knows Ben, too."

"No, I know…I mean… you used to babysit him, Bella. And now he's at the same parties you're at."

Sighing, I nod. "Trust me, I know."

Shrugging, she starts rambling about Ben, but I'm only half listening. By the time we return to the rooftop, both Paul and Edward have disappeared.

Angela and I walk back to where she left Ben, and there I find Edward, sitting on a couch, surrounded by people. He's talking to the pretty blonde by his side, but his eyes are on me as I approach. I pause, not wanting to interrupt, but then he says something to her and she actually leaves, which throws me off a little. He motions for me to come, and I do, knowing now that there's definitely something here. Deep down I've known for some time, but he's getting bolder now.

And I'm getting more receptive. Maybe he's wearing me down, or maybe I'm tired of denying my attraction. I don't know.

He pats the spot next to him, and, after a brief hesitation, I sit.

It's too loud and we're sitting too close to really talk about anything of substance, so we relax. I'm very aware of his thigh against mine, his arm around the back of the seat. Angela's on Ben's lap across from me, and she smiles softly when our eyes meet, cocking her head. I know what she's thinking, and I feel naked.

With Edward Cullen there is this constant push and pull: propriety versus feelings. Every time I'm tempted to just let go and let by instincts take over, panic washes over me and I remember exactly who this kid is.

By midnight, I'm tired. I stand, stretching, and turn to look down at Edward, who may or may not have been checking out my ass. "It was good seeing you, but I should be heading out." I bend to give him a quick hug and then motion to Angela, who doesn't look like she's going anywhere anytime soon.

"I'm going to call a cab," I tell her.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"I can drive you," Edward says, once again at my side.

"You sure? How much have you had to drink?" I ask, squinting at his cup.

"It's water," he says dryly, passing it under my nose.

His attentiveness is cute and so appealing, and I just want to go with it. We say goodbye to Paul, who seems bummed but also very drunk, and leave.

"Thanks, Edward," I say as we descend the stairs.

"It's no big. I was getting a little tired myself."

"Really?" I ask doubtfully.

"Yeah. Long day."

I suspect he's just playing along, but I don't say anything. We hit the street and he leads me to his truck, parked a block away.

"You'll have to tell me where it is," he says, readying his phone navigation as I buckle my seatbelt.

I give him my address, and we're off, driving through the quiet streets, though it gets busier the closer to campus we get. The day is catching up to me now, especially now that we've left the rowdiness of the party, and I find I can't stop yawning through our conversation.

"Do you live close?" I ask, knotting my hair into a loose bun at the nape of my neck.

"I do, actually," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice. "Not even a half mile from here."

"You don't live on campus anymore?" I ask, surprised. I lived in student housing until graduation.

"Nah. Embry and I found something cheap this for year, so we took it."

"That's cool." I sit up, pointing. "You can park there, next to my car."

He pulls into the space, and, before I can thank him for the ride, jumps out. I'm already opening my door by the time he makes it to my side, but he escorts me out anyway and walks me to the door.

It might be all in my head, but awkwardness descends like fog as I slide my key into the door. Clearing my throat, I turn to look up at him. He's staring at me, his hand coming up to touch my hair. My stomach dips and I flatten myself against the door.

For a long time we just look at each other. He goes for it again, this time catching my hair and loosening it with a gentle tug.

"Why'd you do that?" I ask, so quiet it's almost a whisper.

"Why'd you let me?" he asks, just as quietly, coming closer.

I try stop him by placing my hand on his chest, but he just grabs it and comes closer still. "Can I kiss you?"

My heart turns over. Physically, I want him. I really, really want him. But emotionally, we're just too different. Right? We're at such different phases in life. Maybe it won't make a difference in five or six years, but right now it kind of does.

"Please," he adds, looking at my mouth.

Swallowing, I shake my head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

He frowns, letting go of my hand as he takes a step back.

And… I regret that. It occurs to me that while my attraction to him was sudden and recent, he's possibly harbored feelings for me for years. It would explain the way he's looked at me since we got back in touch last Thanksgiving. But maybe I've looked at him that way, too. Have I?

Edward runs his hands through his hair, uncertainty dimming his usual spark. He takes another step back, lifting his eyes to mine.

"You have to realize this is weird for me," I admit, pressing my hands to the door behind me.

He gazes intently back at me, the tiniest smile creeping across his face. When I don't say anything else, or go running, he nods. "Go ahead, get inside. I'll wait."

Ignoring my wildly beating heart, I turn and let myself inside, peeking back just once. "Thanks for driving me back," I say, regretting and relieved all at once.

"Anytime." He tips an imaginary hat and turns to go, walking slowly back to his truck, hands deep inside his pockets. He's tall, taller than I ever imagined he'd be, and the streetlights cast the longest shadows around him.

I close the door before he catches me watching. 

_~the wet dream girl ~_

On Monday, I'm crossing the quad after a study group when I spy Edward playing a rousing game of frisbee with friends. I don't stop, but I watch as I pass, tickled by his fervor. It reminds me a bit of his football game, just not as physically aggressive.

I have the night off from work, so after stopping at Trader Joe's I head home. I linger in the kitchen for a while, half heartedly studying as I make dinner and sip beer, enjoying the rare time to myself.

The timer for my brownies has just gone off when there's a sharp knock at the door. Frowning, I set the brownie pan on a cooling rack and head for the door, peeking through the window first.

"Edward?"

"Hi." He looks uncharacteristically shy for a moment, his eyes dancing over my blouse before returning to my face. "I…sorry. I should have called."

"No, it's fine. Everything okay?" I open the door wider and pull him inside. He swallows visibly, glancing at my top again and I sigh, realizing belatedly that my bra-less-ness is probably what has him so flustered…which, frankly, is ridiculous because we both know he's no blushing virgin.

"I was passing by," he offers, looking around my apartment.

"You know, I saw you earlier," I say, returning to the kitchen. "Playing frisbee?"

"You did?"

I peek at him before turning the oven off. "By the quad?"

"A class got cancelled, and the weather was perfect, so…" He leans against the counter folding his arms. "Why didn't you stop?"

"You looked busy." I shrug, taking my oven mitts off.

"I'm never too busy for…that."

Feeling my cheeks warm, I clear my throat. "Do you want anything to drink?"

He motions to my beer. "I'll take one of those, if you got it."

"You're not twenty one yet," I tease, going to the fridge anyway.

"There you go, ribbing me…"

Smiling, I open the beer and hand it over. This time when his gaze flickers to my chest my stomach flutters. He's such a guy.

"Does it bother you?" he asks, accepting the beer. "My age?"

My stomach flutters again. "Why would your age bother me?"

Part of me wants him to say it, but I don't really expect him to. If I was in his position, I doubt I'd have the guts to admit to a crush.

Smirking, he shakes his head and takes a sip. "I don't know, Bella. Guess I have a lot to learn."

"About what?"

"Women."

"I'm sure you do all right," I laugh.

"What makes you say that?"

He's fishing again, but I kind of want to take the bait, so I do. "Because you're cute. And super smart…and really sweet."

Side eyeing me, he sets his beer down. "I'm not sweet."

"You're sweet to me." I grab a knife so I can cut the brownies into squares.

"You're different."

"How so?" Now I'm the one fishing.

But he stays quiet, watching me thoughtfully as I work. I offer him a brownie, and he takes it, popping the whole thing in his mouth.

"You're different than other girls," he says finally.

"I'm older, you mean."

"Not that much older." His phone beeps and he checks it, glancing over the screen before pocketing it again.

"Maybe not in the grand scheme of things," I begin, fully aware of how stuffy I sound, "but right now it's significant."

There. I've said it. I start reaching into the cabinet to get a plate for the rest of the brownies, but Edward beats me to it, grabbing one and placing it on the counter. It brings him close to me, so close we're touching.

"Thanks," I whisper.

"No problem, shortie," he says, backing off as he ruffles my hair.

"I'm not short!" I cry indignantly, but he just snorts.

"All right, I gotta go. Friends coming over."

"Oh. Okay." I'd been seconds away from inviting him to stay for dinner, so this is probably good. "Thanks for stopping by, Edward."

"Thanks for the brownies." He bites his bottom lip, and I catch another furtive peek at my chest. It kind of turns me on this time, and I let my arm brush his as I lead him to the front door.

"Bye. Don't be a stranger," I say, cringing at my obviousness.

"I won't. See ya, Bella."

"Bye."

Edward pauses, starts to turn, and then kisses me. Completely caught off guard, I let him, but then, I kind of want it anyway. He's eager, nipping at my lip until I open up and then he's in, swiping his tongue through my mouth. Losing my balance, I grab at his arms and he responds by wrapping me in his, bringing our bodies flush as he backs me through the door again. He's a passionate kisser, a little messy, but in a good way. His beard is rough against my chin, and I love it.

It's not until I bump the wall opposite the door that he pulls back, eyes opening slowly, chest rising and falling in quick, stuttered breaths. I've never noticed, not until this second, how full his lips are. They're pretty and red now, wet, and I kiss them lightly before untangling myself.

Damn it. So much for boundaries.

Edward, for being the aggressor here, looks completed surprised - whether at his own initiative or my compliance, I can't tell.

"You better go," I say, clasping my hands so I don't give in to the urge to get grabby. He looks really, really good right now, hair all messy.

"Always in charge," he mutters, not even trying to hide the fact he has to adjust himself.

"You said you have guests," I protest weakly, instantly feeling bad. Am I condescending? I don't mean to be. Lately I don't even know who I am when it comes to Edward.

He opens his mouth as if to speak and then, as if thinking better of it, leaves, shutting the door firmly. 

_~the wet dream girl ~_

Edward doesn't come by again, doesn't call or text, but that kiss is all I think about.

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. His mouth, his hands, his eyes on my breasts. I feel so conflicted, and then I feel conflicted for feeling that way. Does it matter? That he's so much younger? That I babysat him and his brothers for years? That I know his mother, and that she trusted me with her kids? Is it different now?  
I don't even feel like talking to Angela about it, because if she confirms my fears it'll just…suck.

These thoughts, they run in a loop. It's exhausting, and they always come to the same conclusion before starting again: does it matter?

After hearing through the grapevine that Edward and Embry are having a party Friday night, I ask Ben for their address. Edward was right; they do live pretty close and, because it's a nice night, I opt to walk. Their apartment is easy to spot as I get closer. Loud music thumps through the walls, and there's a steady flow of people coming in and out. I don't even have to knock; I just wander inside. This isn't my crowd, which is a little awkward, but no one's paying attention to me so it doesn't matter. But then a girl I know I've seen before turns around. She's the pretty blonde from the rooftop party, and she's touching Edward's hand as they chat in the living room.

And that's when I know.

I like Edward, really like him, enough to feel the heat of jealousy when I see him with someone else. My heart's known this for some time, but it seems it's taken awhile for my brain to catch up … to accept it, I guess. I don't know what that blonde is to Edward, but seeing him talk to her this way, just days after our kiss, stings. Regardless, I've no right to him - I kissed him and then kicked him out - if a guy did that to me, he'd be on my shit list.

Chickening out, I ease back through the crowd, leaving the way I came in. Now I'm glad I walked. It'll give me a chance to think. I laugh to myself, feeling ridiculous. Who'd have ever thought I'd have feelings like this for Edward Cullen?

"Bella!" I spin around somewhat sheepishly. Edward's in front of his house, squinting at me. "So it's like that?"

I walk back, touching the fringe on my scarf. "Hey…"

"You were just going to leave?" he asks, seeming genuinely annoyed.

"You looked -"

"Busy? You always say that shit, but then again, you don't try too hard, do you?"

He's not drunk, but he's been drinking. I take a step back, shaking my head. "No. I guess I don't. But Edward…" I gaze up into those pretty green eyes, so filled with hurt. "I'm sorry. I…I'm trying here, okay? I wanted to talk to you about the other night but the last thing I want to do is make things weird."

Laughing humorlessly, he roughs his hands through his hair. "You make things weird when you act like you're into me and then you run away." He cocks his head. "Or you make me run away."

Biting my lip, I avert my eyes just in time to see the blonde come strutting out, a purse slung over her shoulder. "Fuck you, Cullen."

Closing his eyes, he exhales before turning around. "I'm sorry, Lauren. I -"

"You are sorry. Don't call me." She throws a scowl my way before continuing on, the click-clack of her heels fading as she disappears down the sidewalk.

"Are you with her?" I ask, heart sinking.

"She'd like me to be."

"Don't be a dick." I take another step back, not willing to be a part of this if he's going to act like that. For all I think I know about Edward, I have no idea he treats girls.

"I'm not. I…sorry." His eyes soften, and he reaches for my hand. "She's been trying. But I like someone else."

We gaze at one another, and I feel like more is said in that one moment than in all the words we've ever spoken to each other. And that's when I really give in.

"Come inside?" He inclines his head toward the apartment, and I nod, letting him bring me back.

Inside, he grabs a six pack from the fridge and leads me to his room, which he locks once we're inside. The sounds of merriment are somewhat muffled, making it easier to talk.

"So what's up?" he asks, opening my beer for me.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" He smirks, dropping on to the bed and leaning against his pillows.

"Knock it off. You know what." Sitting gingerly on the edge of his bed, I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry for making you leave the other day. And…I'm sorry if I'm playing with your emotions. I just don't know how I feel about hooking up with a guy I used to babysit."

For a long time he says nothing. I take a sip of beer, watching him watch me before he finally shrugs and sets his now empty bottle down. "I think you should just roll with it."

Pursing my lips, I put the bottle next to his. "Meaning?"

"Meaning no one cares but you, if that's what you're worried about." He shrugs. "I've had a thing for you since the Halloween you dressed up as Sailor Moon," he adds. "In eighth grade."

"You were in eighth grade," I breathe, remembering. "I was a junior or a senior."

"That little blue skirt gave me a boner for a week." He shifts. "Still kinda gives me a boner."

I blush hotly, a little embarrassed but mostly thrilled at this information.

"All my friends thought you were so hot…and you were. You were this totally unattainable older woman, but now?" He flashes a cocky little grin and sits up, pulling me closer. "I think you like me."

"What gives you that impression?" I ask, shifting until I'm sitting beside him.

"Besides the fact you let me kiss you?" He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the headboard. "Thanksgiving. The way you looked at me."

My face burns at the memory. "Yeah, I wasn't expecting…you to…be older."

He opens his eyes. "That's generally what happens to people."

I give him a look. "You know what I mean."

He nods slowly, looking at my mouth. My throat tightens, because I know he's going to kiss me again, and I know I'm going to let him. The tension between us grows until he reaches up, cupping my cheek, and presses his lips against mine. It escalates quickly, and he lays me down. Kissing him back just as deeply, I run my fingers through his hair. He smells the same, detergent and mint, and though he tastes like beer there's something else, something hot and sweet.

"Cinnamon," I whisper, when he leaves my lips for my neck.

"Altoids," he murmurs. "Want one?"

"Do I need one?" I tease.

But his tongue is back in my mouth, persistent, pushing, like he's got a goal. It's intense, and melty and slow, and the longer we kiss the hornier I get until I've wrapped my legs around his narrow hips. He's hard; it's obvious, and I push and he pushes and then he stops, hovering above me.

"I use to think about this all the time, Bella. Dream about it," he says, cheeks pink. "Fantasize about…" His eyes go to my chest, and without another thought I unzip my hoodie. He lifts my t-shirt and starts to kiss my cleavage, his breath heavy and warm on my skin, but when he pulls the lace of my bra down to get at my nipple I push him on to his side, hitching my leg over him. And then…forget it - all I want to do is touch him. This angle makes it easier, and as we start kissing I quickly unbutton his jeans and slide my hand inside.

The second I make contact, Edward's kisses become frantic and uncoordinated. He moans, and it makes me nearly wild with desire. I love that I can do this to him, that I can make him feel like this, sound like that. I wrap my hand firmly around his dick and pull, reveling in his stifled gasp. He's bigger than I imagined; hot, hard, smooth.

He whispers my name, his hand tightening in my hair, and I move my lips to his neck, sucking the skin right below his ear. He moans again, loudly, pumping up into my hand. I squeeze hard, knowing I can't hurt him, and work him over, faster and faster, until he's squeezing my hip so hard it hurts.

"Fuck…don't stop," he groans, and then, suddenly, he shuts up and seizes, silently spilling into my hand.

I never thought getting someone else off could be that hot.

Apparently, I was wrong. 

_~the wet dream girl ~_

Edward doesn't understand why I wouldn't let him return the favor.

For one thing, I didn't want to get naked and hot in an apartment overrun with horny college boys - even if Edward's door was locked. But for another, a little part of me really, really liked the power I felt that night. I know it wasn't his first hand job. Let's be real. But the way he looked at me, his reactions…it was so incredibly hot, and honestly? Made me want to do other things to him too, like wrap my lips around what is probably a really pretty cock.

But it had been late, and we were already moving a little fast, and I suspected that once Edward got my pants off we'd be engaging in a lot more than manual stimulation. So I'd kissed him and left, promising to see him soon.

Yeah, I don't know.

What I do know is that I've gotten myself off three times to the memory of Edward groaning beneath me. _So sexy. _

We text, all the time now, little conversations that never end, and he calls me late at night, when we're done with class and work. I'm enjoying getting to know him on this level, at this age, and I get the feeling he feels the same way. I bring him pizza one night, and we eat while watching a movie in the living room. He brings cupcakes to my job the next day, making my co-workers swoon when he leaves.

I purposely pass the quad the following Wednesday, looking to see if there are any Frisbee games going on, but the space is empty except for a few folks soaking up the weak sunlight. Disappointed, I hurry to my car, wondering if I should just invite Edward over for a late dinner. I have work and he has a night class, but he might be down.

Snorting, I unlock my car and climb in. Who am I kidding; he'll definitely be down. I dial his number as I back out, wondering if he'll pick up.

"I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," he teases.

"We spoke last night," I laugh, easing out of the parking lot. "Listen, I'm headed to work now but…are you busy later?"

"How much later? I have a study group…"

"Like, ten."

"I'll be free by then. You wanna…chill?"

Chill is one way to put it. I feel like such a cougar in training, but we haven't had much time lately and I can't wait to just attack him.

"Yeah. I'll make dinner. I know it's late, but -"

"I'll be there."

"Cool. Okay."

"Okay."

We hang up and I call Angela, not wanting her to be caught unaware by our guest.

"Hey, Bella," she says. "Did you know Tyler Crowley goes to UW? He started super late."

I suppress a groan at the mention of my ex. We were a hot item in eleventh grade until I found out he banged Makenna Malone at a party. "I did not know that."

"Yeah…I was talking to Tia…"

I let her ramble a bit before clearing my throat. "Hey, babe, I don't mean to cut you off, but I'm about to go to work."

"Um, okay?"

"I invited Edward over. For dinner," I blurt out, guilty I haven't let her in on my past week. "Later. Tonight."

She cackles. "I knew it! I knew you wanted that! Oh my God, you're so obvious!"

"Shut up, Ange. It's not like that." Even though it so is.

"Oh, it so is. Yeah."

"Ange -"

"It's cool, calm down. I love Edward, and I'm cooking anyway. I'll see you when you get home."

"All right. Thanks."

"Ben's calling. Gotta go. See you later, cradle robber!" She disconnects before I can respond.

By the time I get home later on it's 10:30. Edward, Ben and Angela have started without me, goofing off in the kitchen.

"Sorry I'm late, guys," I say, cringing at the time.

"No worries," Angela chirps. "I'm making spaghetti."

"Thanks," I sigh, dropping my bag on the kitchen table. I walk hesitantly toward Edward, unsure of our status and, subsequently, how to greet him.

But he just reaches up and pulls my hand. "Hi."

"Hi." I wrap my arms around him and rest my cheek on the top of his head as he gives me a squeeze. I peek over at my sister, but she's wrapped up in her boyfriend, spoon-feeding him sauce.

The mood is mellow, the overall dynamic simple and straightforward. I begin to think that maybe Edward was right - maybe the only person worried about our ages was me. I can't know for sure things would be this relaxed were we to go back home this way, but for now, here, it feels right.

After dinner, Angela and Ben disappear. Edward helps me clear the table and load the dishwasher as we trade stories about our day. He's easy to talk to, smart and unassuming. The only thing better than a boy as hot as he is is one who's got the brains and personality to back it up…and he does. He so does. My concerns about us being in different life stages might not have been inaccurate, but it's definitely beginning to seem irrelevant.

Edward follows me to my room and sits on my bed, watching as I shed my layers, draw my curtains shut, turn a lamp on. He grabs me as I pass by, pulling me to stand between his legs.

"You're so pretty," he says quietly, watching his hand as he combs it through my hair. It's funny: he's such a stud with other girls but with me, he wavers between confidence and shyness. It's appealing, and it reminds me to be careful with him. His feelings might run deeper than I realize.

"Thanks," I say, leaning forward to plant a little kiss on his lips. He tries to deepen it, but I pull back playfully. "So are you. I always knew you'd be a knockout."

He smiles crookedly. "Yeah?"

I nod, touching his hair. There's no going back now, I don't think. I don't want to.

"I like this," he whispers, settling his hands on my hips. I'm in a dress today, one of the last few before the rapidly cooling days of fall will render it impossible to wear again. There is a chill, though, hence my grey leggings. Gazing into my eyes, Edward runs his hands up my thighs and falters. A smile breaks out as he realizes my leggings are actually thigh highs.

"So hot," he whispers, yanking me close to kiss.

I lick his lips and he lets me in, kissing me deeper as his hands drift higher, widening my stance so his fingers can play where he wants them to. "This okay?"

"Mhm." Grasping his shoulders, I exhale quietly, shaking as he touches me, gently and then with authority. Now I'm the one moaning into his mouth, my knees weak as he fingers me into an orgasm.

I close my eyes as I recover, letting him kiss my neck.

"You look so good, Bella," he says, eyes on my chest as he lifts my dress off. I help him with my bra and then with his shirt, appreciating the muscled plane of his chest. Kneeling, I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, boxers too, finally doing what I've been thinking about for days.

"Oh…oh…yeah…I…I…" He can't even formulate a sentence. I fit as much of him into my mouth as I can, using my hand for everything else. He rests his hand on my head, his mouth half open, eyes half closed. His pleasure actually, literally, makes me wet, so without further adieu I rise and take the rest of my clothing off.

"Hey," he says, reaching for me. "If we…do this, it's not a quick fuck for me. You need to know it's…" He shakes his head, swallowing. "I want you, yeah, but I want to _be_ with you."

"I know." I nod, wrapping my arms around him, kissing his ear. Our bodies are warm, pressed together without clothes for the first time. It gives me goosebumps. "I want to be with you, too."

He rests his hands hesitantly on my behind. "I mean - "

"I know what you mean." I smile at his earnestness and back up a bit so I can see his face. "And I'm on the same page."

Distracted by my breasts, he leans forward, kissing each one. "Good. Because…" He draws a nipple into my mouth. It feels so good I sigh, my head falling back.

Edward stops, fumbling for his wallet. "You have to tell me what you like," he says, cheeks flushed with want.

"I will," I promise, but I might not have to.

He rolls a condom on and starts to gentle me on to my back, but I push him off and straddle him instead, rubbing myself back and forth over his erection. Eventually he grits his teeth and holds me still, our gazes locked as he enters me. It's hard to believe this is happening, but I want it; I want him. I more than want him; I might even be a little in with love him. After taking a moment to adjust, I start to move, rolling my hips over him. It's slow at first, feeling every inch of him inside of me, enjoying his expressions as he enjoys the view. He squeezes my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers, feeding my arousal as I ride him. Resting my hands on his thighs behind me, I move faster, chasing completion until it crashes over me, ripping out of me with a sharp cry.

Before I can come down, Edward sits up, flipping me over, and starts to drive into me with a force that bruises. I hold on tight, grabbing his face so that I can kiss him. I swear I can feel him get harder, more rigid, and he comes with a grunt and several quick, sharp thrusts. Sweat dampens his hair, his brow, as he gazes down with something like wonder and supreme satisfaction. Using both my arms and my legs, I pull him down, craving his weight.

"You were my first wet dream," he whispers, mouth at my ear. "But that…that was so much better." 

_~the wet dream girl ~_

_**Thanks for reading…**_

_**xoxo**_


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